The Painting
by KurtandBlaineGleek
Summary: Enchanted by an elegant painting with a beautiful boy in it, Kurt makes a deal with the son of the artist. But the deal turns put to be one that will threaten his very existence. Currently a one-shot!


**A/N: This is a quirky one-shot that I came up with. Only the first part of it is handwritten so I'm writing the rest out directly to the doc manager. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I only own the plot. But owning Klaine would be nice.**

* * *

Every brushstroke was delicate, serene, perfect in precision. The beautiful colors of the miraculous painting gave just the right touch of light to the large country Victorian house that was the center pull of attention. But it was not that house that was the focus of attention to the eighteen year old that marveled at its every unique brushstroke. It was the boy that had been painting into a sitting position on the swing that hung from the apple tree at the side of the painting. He looked so real.

Kurt's slender fingers brushed lightly over the boy. His face was smiling but the smile did not reach his eyes and Kurt detected a sadness in his very being.

"You like it?" said a voice from beside him and Kurt turned to see a man standing beside him. His tone and expression were both somber, a fact that had the pale boy extremely confused. Why would he be so somber that Kurt was intrigued about this particular painting?

"Like is an understatement. It's exquisite." The man's demeanor perked up just a bit.

"And what is your favorite part of the painting?"

Kurt knew the answer to this but still, he took a moment to stand back and admire it before giving the man his answer.

"I know it's meant to be the house but I'm most attracted to the boy on the swing."

The man's eyes widened and he immediately stuck out his hand for Kurt to shake, which the boy did, though slightly hesitantly.

"I'm Cooper Anderson," he said quite easily.

"Anderson? As in?"

"The artist's son, yes." Kurt's eyes went wide and Cooper gave a soft chuckle. "Might I enquire your name?" he asked.

"Oh!" Kurt flushed. "Forgive me. I'm Kurt, Kurt Hummel."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Kurt Hummel," Cooper replied. "This may sound a little odd but might I get a picture of you?" At Kurt's confusion, he launched into an explanation. "We're looking for a potential buyer for this painting and my mother never does negotiations face to face. Much in the way some job applications require photos or acting requires head shots, she likes to see who her potential buyer is before she decides to negotiate with them."

Kurt was taken aback by this information.

"I'm not looking to buy. I'm just a high school student. I don't have that kind of money."

"Nonsense. You're attracted to the painting right?"

"Oh yes! It really does draw me in!" Kurt became aware of the strong desire to have the painting. To gaze upon it and see the boy every single day.

"Than we will work something out. Who knows, you may not have to pay anything at all." Something about this particular statement unnerved Kurt. He did not like the way Cooper had said it. Still, he wanted that painting. He wanted that boy in his daily life, even if he wasn't real.

And as he gazed at the painting, thinking it over, Kurt could have sworn the boy in the painting frantically shook his head no at him, but he dismissed it as a figment of his imagination.

"Deal," he said, shaking Cooper's hand once more.

* * *

As Kurt left the gallery, Cooper proceeded to the back room, having removed the painting from the wall. He had a picture so Kurt gleaming on his cell phone. He shut the door to the back room carefully and watched the woman sitting at the easel placing one delicate brushstroke after another onto a fresh canvas.

"Mother," he said in greeting. The woman set down her brush and turned on her stool to face him.

"You have the painting," she stated when she noted the painting in her son's hand.

Cooper nodded. "Yes, and a picture of a boy I think will be just perfect to complete the project. A slow smile adorned his face and his mother held out a hand.

"Well, let's see him than," she said. Cooper approached her and handed over the cell phone. She studied the picture for a moment before giving her head a short nod. "Mhm," she agreed, handing the phone back. "Blaine will like this one." Both of them looked down at the painting Cooper still held. The boy was no longer sitting on the swing but standing on the porch of the house. He was looking out with a weary expression on his face.

"Oh yes he will," Cooper agreed. "Won't you Blaine?" he asked, never taking his eyes from the boy in the painting.

His mother drew her eyes back to Cooper. "And you are sure this boy is gay? Your father will not approve if I use a straight boy." Cooper quickly nodded his head.

"I'm sure. His flamboyant appearance screams it and he found Blaine to be the most attractive part of the painting." His mother nodded in understanding.

"Very well. Call this boy and tell him I will negotiate."

"Yes mother." Cooper handed her the painting, which she switched with the canvas on the easel and quickly sent the photo of Kurt to his mother's phone. She would need it after all.

Thanking her son, the woman set to work mixing paints. She had a few little touch ups to do on the painting before it would be ready.

Cooper set off to another part of the back room and dialed the number the boy had given him when they made the arrangements. Kurt answered on the second ring.

"Hello?" Kurt's voice sounded questioning on the other end of the line and Cooper realized he had not given the boy his own number so that he may know when it was Cooper who was calling.

"Hello Kurt Hummel. This is Cooper Anderson," he said politely into the phone.

"Oh! Hello. I wasn't expecting you to call so soon," Kurt replied. He sounded mildly surprised and Cooper smiled to himself.

He chuckled lightly. "Yes well, my mother had barely to look at your picture before she decided you were the one she wanted to negotiate with. We'll work out the payment at a later date but I thought I would tell you that she putting some touch ups on the painting and it may be a few days before it will be ready for you," he told him.

"Oh! All right. I didn't think there was anything that needed to be done. Except maybe to make the boy look happier," Kurt said, laughing lightly. Though he wouldn't admit it, the strange tone in Cooper's voice had him feeling slightly uneasy.

"Yes well, my mother likes to do a little something to personalize the painting for the buyer. You'll see. And I'm sure the boy will look perfectly happy when she's finished."

Kurt paused. What in the world did he mean by that? He could feel the nervous litter of butterflies in his stomach and not the good kind but he tried not to think about it and just shook it off.

"If you say so," he replied.

Cooper nodded to himself. "Oh I do. It should be ready in a few short days and then we can discuss payment."

"Right. Okay than," Kurt said, trying to keep the unease out of his voice. "So I'll hear from you then?"

"You will hear from me then, yes," Cooper confirmed.

"Right. Good-bye Cooper Anderson."

"Good-bye Kurt Hummel."

As he hung up, Kurt had no idea that he would in fact, not be hearing from Cooper Anderson ever again. Indeed, he would not be hearing from anyone ever again, in the very near future.

* * *

Over the next couple of days, Kurt began to slowly start feeling out of sorts. He was off all day. His head felt like it was spinning and his vision seemingly blurred. Not to mention, he had moments where he could swear his was looking right through his arm or his hand or his leg or some other random part of his body. It was like he was slowly fading out of existence entirely. And to be completely honest, it scared the hell out of him.

Within a few days, Kurt had locked himself in his room and refused to go to school or see or talk to anyone, including his family and Kurt was very close to his family.

The truth of the matter was that he was afraid he was mentally losing it. And what if he wasn't crazy and he really was fading from existence? But people didn't do that right? Surely not.

Still, he'd rather not risk his friends and family seeing him fading away, literally.

It was on the fifth day of these strange symptoms, that the weirdest one of all began. Kurt started having flashes where he would blink his eyes and his whole room would change. He found that at one point, he seemed to be staring at an apple tree. One with a swing hanging from it. One that looked very much like the very free in that painting. Another time, he was sitting on a bed in a clearly Victorian styled bedroom with a large bay window in front of him. He could see that same apple tree in the distance.

It was as though his subconscious was bringing the world of the painting to life. It was his subconscious right? Sure, it had to be. He could never end up in a non-existent world in reality, right?

Perhaps the most frightening and odd of these episodes was when he blinked his eyes and his room melted away to an old classic Victorian kitchen. He found himself sitting at the kitchen table and to his astonishment, the very boy from the painting was sitting right across from him.

It wasn't the fact that he found himself staring at a boy who wasn't real that scared him. It was the fact that not only did this episode last a lot longer than all the ones before it, but it also felt as real as sitting on his own bed at home did.

"You should have said no," the boy said. Kurt blinked at him. He was even more stunning in person. Gorgeous dark curly haired nearly gelled down to his head. Hazel-golden eyes set under triangular eyebrows, tan skin, and an obviously well defined physique. Also, Kurt noted that he was dressed differently than he had been in the painting.

"Pardon?" Kurt replied, slightly confused.

"The deal. You shouldn't have made that deal with my brother."

Kurt knew he should be asking what the boy meant by that but he was completely thrown off when he mentioned Cooper as being his brother. He shook his head frantically.

"I don't get it. How can you be brother's with someone when you're just a part of a painting?"

The other boy looked at him sadly. "I wasn't always just a part of a painting," he replied.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked, inclining his head to one side.

The boy looked at him for several long moments before going on with his explanation. "I was once a real person, just like you. But then I came out to my parents." He swallowed and Kurt felt the odd need to reach out a hand and place it on the other boy's. "My dad doesn't approve of gay people. He gave my mother a brand new paint set. She had always loved painting. He said they were special brushes, brushes that would do away with all wrong things in the world. And then, he told my mother to paint me into one of her paintings." He paused and Kurt got a slight sense of where this was going. "So she did. And now I reside here, in this non-existent world, for all eternity."

It was quiet for several long moments and then Kurt asked the one question he feared the very answer to.

"What does any of this have to do with me?"

The boy stared at him, eyes still very sad. "Cooper didn't want your picture for negotiation purposes Kurt," he said quietly.

Before Kurt was able to ask him to elaborate, the strange world shifted and he found himself in his room once more. But he found that he didn't actually need the boy to elaborate. He had a feeling he knew now exactly what was happening.

The artist was painting him into the painting.

* * *

A mere few hours had passed since Kurt had made his Realization. He had just finished a note of good-bye to his family but mostly to his father. Tears were leaking from his eyes but at least he would have that boy right?

That didn't really make this better. By the increasing episodes and time spent in the world of the painting, Kurt knew he had no time left to stop it. Sniffling, he slipped out of his room and taped the note to his parents' bedroom door. A good-bye to Carole, a good-bye to Finn. A good-bye to his dad.

He stared at the note for several long moments before disappearing into his room for the last time.

Night sank in around him as he sat on the bed. He could visibly see his body fading and flashing between solid and transparent. At the same time, the walls were fading back and forth between his room and the Victorian bedroom with the bay window. This was it. The artist was putting the finishing touches on his being in the painting.

And as the last flash between reality and fiction settled in around him, he whispered four little words that would be his last in this world, that no one would hear. "I love you guys."

He blinked and opened his eyes slowly. He was staring out the bay window. It was nighttime now in the painting world as well. The boy was standing by the window. He turned his head to look at Kurt.

"Welcome home Kurt," he said softly but sadly. "Courage," he added. And as he said it, Kurt found himself smiling. A life with this boy? He would be okay. "By the way, I'm Blaine."

And as the two became acquainted with each other, Cooper was rehanging the painting in the gallery, the dead of night sinking in around the quaint building. The painting now showed the same curly haired boy it always had, but this time, he was accompanied by a tall pale boy with perfectly coifed hair and stunning blue-green-gray eyes. They were both in a room on the second floor of the Victorian house, gazing out of a large bay window.

* * *

**A/N: And that's a wrap on this one. No actual romance or anything! Though if you guys want, I suppose I could turn it into a chapter story and have Kurt and Blaine fall in love and fight to find their way back into the real world or worse, have more people painted into their non-existent world but it would be nice to have them be in bliss for a while with no threats of being interrupted first, yeah? So, unless you guys want me to make it some sort of chapter story, this remains a one-shot. If it does become one, rating will go up, just a warning. Reviews make me smile! Happy reading!**


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